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The Price of Knowledge
Story Notes: See Chapter One Warning: nightmare/torture images
Chapter Five Dreaming
Daniel knew he was dreaming. He was intimately familiar with his nightmares, so familiar he dreaded sleep because of them. He had learned to numb the effects of his nightmares with the exhaustion that followed days of coffee and overwork. Later, the comfort of friends who had shared the same experiences stifled some of the dream-world’s power over him. But no matter what he did, he could never completely escape. He recognized the nightmares by their names. Falling Stone. Boy Alone. Stolen Wife. Hathor. Sarcophagus. Padded White Room. Once, he had known every detail behind every name, but much of that had been taken from him. Now he only felt the terror that accompanied each hazy image, a terror magnified by a six-year-old mind that knew without a doubt demons existed and he was their favorite prey. The newest nightmare was the worst and the most vivid. It began with anger. His own irritation that something needed to be done, yet no one would do it. Then the fury of the Others, a rage so intense that he was a mere tree against their whirlwind. They snapped him. Then the pain started. They said they only wanted what he had learned among them. But he didn’t keep new information where it could be easily reclaimed. He had immersed himself in their knowledge, adapting to a new culture as he always did. He had lived with them and made their perceptions a part of his life. It wasn’t something that could be separated from him. They tried anyway. They tore the knowledge from his mind. Tore it away in huge strips that left bloody gashes in his memory, because just as he had warned, it had already integrated with the rest of him. He knew a way to stop them, a way to protect himself, and sometimes it worked, but most often, it failed. The pain was all-encompassing. Like Nem’s memory device and a Goa’uld hand ribbon combined into one long, continuous, unending agony. He was screaming inside, but no one could hear him except his torturers, who cared only about the knowledge they had forbidden to lesser beings. He lost everything and everyone. Worse, he lost himself. He watched helplessly as pieces of his identity were ripped away. Still, they weren’t satisfied. They came again and again to steal what remained. Little by little, he was dying, fading into oblivion. He wasn’t sure what made him fight back. He had already forgotten so much. Somehow he found the strength not to give up. He struggled past the pain and hid fragments of his memory, clinging stubbornly to the ones that mattered the most: Jack, Sam, Teal’c. For once, the dream-world helped him. There were nooks and crannies within its subconscious domain where he shoved bits of knowledge. But he couldn’t reach them now. Glowing eyes tracked him, and he was too terrified to move. In the shadows, something lurked, chittering and clicking. He gagged at the stench of charred skin close to his nose and glanced down to see his shoulder blackened and scorched. The mechanical clicks swelled as if the thing in the shadows had multiplied, feeding off his brain. The fiery agony in his shoulder spread to include his chest. It hurt to breathe. The glowing eyes mocked his terror and dared him to run. The clicks came closer, advancing on him while he stood frozen. Closer, closer. A voice thundered, “You have chosen to disregard our warnings. You have transgressed our laws.” The glowing eyes and clicking sounds crept back into the shadows. The pain in his shoulder disappeared, yielding to the stronger nightmare. Blinding light attacked him. He screamed. His mind was invaded. His privacy, violated. Callous searchers poked and prodded. Judged and found him wanting. Lesser. Unworthy of the knowledge they had once given freely. He struggled. Bands of light seized him. “Stop!” He screamed again. “Don’t! Don’t!” The first slash was unimaginable. Pain and memory spewed from the wound. He started to cry. “Please stop. Please.” Someone else was pleading, the words overlapping his own. “Wake up, Daniel. Please wake up. I’ve got ya. Come on, buddy. Please?” The nightmare retreated, repelled by the voice. Daniel sobbed as it released him. He dragged himself out of the dream-world. In slow increments, he became conscious of his body and its surroundings. His throat, raw from screaming. His runny nose. His sweat-dampened hair. The sound of Jack’s heart beating beneath his ear. The feel of Jack’s hand stroking up and down his back, solid and anchoring. He was safe. Daniel went limp with relief. “Daniel?” Jack’s voice rose on a note of panic. When Jack relaxed his embrace to check on Daniel, Daniel clamped his arms around Jack. “Don’t. Don’t let go.” Jack expelled a gust of air and hugged Daniel back to his chest. “God, Danny, I thought you’d never wake up.” There was silence then, except for Daniel’s occasional sniffs. Jack rocked him. The fear gradually receded. As long as Jack held him, Daniel knew he was safe. “You okay?” Jack asked after a while. Daniel nodded, his cheek still pressed to Jack. “Bad dream, huh?” Daniel nodded again and felt more tears stream down his cheeks. “My eyes are leaking.” Jack leaned back so he could inspect Daniel’s face. He grinned and tweaked Daniel’s nose. “They sure are.” One arm still wrapped around Daniel, Jack bent forward and reached for the tissue box on the bedside table. He freed a tissue, sat upright, and held the tissue over Daniel’s nose and mouth. “Here, blow.” Daniel looked down at the tissue by crossing his eyes. He wasn’t sure exactly what Jack wanted him to do. He pursed his lips and puffed at the tissue. “Your nose, silly.” Jack chuckled. “Blow out through your nose.” He scrunched his nose and did what Jack instructed, but he wondered if this was something else he had forgotten when nothing seemed to happen. He tried again and glanced up at Jack, baffled by the lack of results. Surely if Jack wanted him to blow, something was supposed to happen. Jack smiled gently, pinched Daniel’s nostrils together under the tissue, and swabbed up the moisture that seeped out. Then he reached for another tissue and used it to dry Daniel’s cheeks. “Better?” Daniel nodded. “That was some doozy of a dream you were having. You wanna talk about it?” Daniel gave an emphatic shake of his head. Words made things real. He didn’t want his dreams to be real. He wanted the Others to stay where they were, a nightmare image of his dream-world. A dull ache that was more distracting than painful throbbed inside his temples. His head felt crammed. Somehow, while he was dreaming, he had managed to unlock more of his memories. They flitted around his head in a confusing, dizzying dance. “Hungry?” Jack asked. “Starving,” Daniel said, and his stomach growled its agreement. He slithered to the floor and reached for Jack’s hand. “Come on. Hurry up, Jack.” Even as they left the bedroom, Daniel could feel the Others watching. They whispered their promises to find him. Daniel tightened his hold on Jack’s hand. As long as Jack was near, he was safe. He repeated it to himself over and over. He just wished he could believe it. ¤
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Disclaimer: The Stargate characters all belong to Gekko Film Company, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions, MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Showtime, Sci Fi Channel, and Stargate SG-1 Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended to infringe on any of those rights and is meant solely for the purpose of entertainment. All other characters, the story idea, and the story itself are the sole property of the author. |
